


Better Off Dead

by bigdumbbimbo



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Rape, Reader Insert, Reader is one of Negan's wives, season 7, tw rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-08-21 01:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16567073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigdumbbimbo/pseuds/bigdumbbimbo
Summary: Being Negan's wife wasn't your plan, but you had to act fast to save Daryl's life. Now you're both stuck at the Sanctuary and you don't know how you'll make it out alive.





	1. Chapter 1

Everything in this building was cold. Cold, hard metal biting into your skin. Cold air seeping into your bones no matter how close to the fire you sat. Cold whiskey burning your throat so you could stomach what you had to put yourself through. You felt more at home at the abandoned prison you had lived in for nearly a year than you did in this plush bed. Even the bed felt like a coffin made of ice. Cold and alone. More alone than you had been in a long time. Sure, Negan didn’t let you out of the sight of at least one of his more trusted henchmen, but you were still alone. You cursed yourself for all those times cramped in the Greene Farmhouse you wished for some time to yourself. Now, you would give anything to be back in that house, crowded around with all the people you now considered your family. The people who had saved you from dying bloody and screaming in a grimy gas station bathroom in Atlanta. But after what Negan did to you, what he did to Abraham and Glenn, maybe dying that day wouldn’t have been so bad. At least you would have gone quick, never knowing the loss of all the ones you loved.

“Don’t go throwing yourself a pity party,” You say to yourself, looking up at the grey ceiling. It had only been a week at the Sanctuary, but it felt like it dragged on for years. Each agonizing touch of that murderer’s skin on yours lasted a lifetime. You mostly got through it by picturing yourself taking that barbed wire bat he loved so much and bringing it straight down on his skull.

You shook your head, pulling yourself up in the bed, covering your naked body with the silk sheet. Who had time for silk sheets in the end times? Of course, Negan would. While you never minded a bit of luxury before all this shit went down, after spending so long sleeping on dirty sleeping bags and sometimes even just plain old dirt, even the standard cotton bedspreads of Alexandria felt excessive. That’s probably why Daryl took to sleeping on the floor of Baby Judith’s room.

_Daryl._

The image of the quiet archer appeared in your head abruptly and you recoiled like a hand from a hot stove. It was like that every time you let your mind wander enough to forget that he was trapped in the Sanctuary as well, a prisoner in a more traditional sense. You were sure he was festering in his own guilt much like you were. But his was in part your fault.

When you had first met him, when he and Glenn saved you from being walker bait, he hadn’t really wanted to speak to you at all. Glenn assured you it wasn’t personal; Daryl wasn’t much of a talker. It wasn’t until you cleaned up one of his wounds and screamed at him to take care of himself instead of hurling himself at every dangerous situation he could find that he decided you could be trusted. When you lost track of everyone in the prison after the Governor's attack, you were surprised how hard he embraced you when you found him again. You had your differences, but now, he was your closest friend, a confidant in times when someone you could trust was as rare as finding water in the desert.

One of the other wives, Sherry, the newest besides you, had told you to wait to try any funny business. You were being watched closer than anyone else. The other wives could move pretty freely throughout the building. Sherry assured you that Daryl was alive, but that’s all she would say. She had tactfully avoided answering you when you asked if he was okay. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew the answer to that already.

A knock on the door pushed your heart beat into overdrive. You calmed yourself down, reminding yourself that Negan never knocked.

“Come in,” You said as if you had any control in this personal hell.

Almost as if summoned by your musing, Sherry stepped into the bedroom. “We’re needed downstairs,” She said.

“Oh,” You said shortly. So far in your stay at the Sanctuary, you hadn’t gone downstairs for anything other than to watch someone get their face melted off. It wasn’t your idea of a good time.

One of the guards who had been standing outside the door moved as if to come into the bedroom as well, but Sherry held her hand out, stopping him short. “You think Negan would let you see his wife naked?” She asked.

“I-uh-,” The guard stammered. You felt bad for him for a moment. He was even younger than you were. But then you remembered the sneer he had given you when he marched you into Negan’s room earlier and suddenly you didn’t sympathize with the boy as much.

“Right,” Sherry said. “Just wait outside for her to get dressed, we’ll be out in a second and you can walk us down.”

The guard nodded dutifully and shut the door. You were learning that confidence was key here. With the Saviors in general, but also with Negan himself. Sherry appeared to have it in abundance. Maybe that’s why Negan seemed to trust her despite her deceiving him at every opportunity.

Sherry turned back to you, her eyes showing an intense urgency. She picked up your discarded dress from its place on the floor, where Negan had tossed it earlier, and handed it back to you. “We don’t have much time, come on,” Sherry said. You hopped out of the bed, not really caring if she saw your bare body. There was no privacy in the wives’ quarters. You had seen more of your sister wives’ bodies than you had ever seen in your own.

“Time for what?” You asked, sliding into the skin tight black dress. Before the world went to shit, you were pretty used to wearing stuff like this, but after so long in torn jeans and t shirts, you felt as if you were putting on a straight jacket.

“Don’t ask questions,” Sherry said. “The less you know the better.”

She flipped you around to zip up the back of the dress for you as you slid back on the ridiculous heels that made your toes cry out for the comfort of your heavy combat boots. Once you were back in the costume of Negan’s doting bride, Sherry steered you out the door.

“All set,” Sherry said to the guard.

“What’s even going on downstairs?” He asked. “I didn’t get a call for anything.”

“You think they tell me anything, Peter?” Sherry said. “I just do what I’m told and march where I’m ordered.”

You stared at Sherry’s face as the guard led you down the hall but you still couldn’t tell if she was lying or not. She had said it was better if you didn’t know. But it worried you that she was so good at what she did, you didn’t know if you were being helped or being hunted.

Just as you got to the stairwell, the guard’s walkie talkie buzzed. “Peter,” The voice on the other end said. “Peter, we need you back by the wall.”

Peter shot a look back at you and Sherry, unclipping the walkie from his belt. “Can’t, escorting two wives downstairs.”

“Downstairs?” the voice asked. Your stomach clenched as you tried to read Sherry’s blank expression to see if that had been part of her plan or not. “They can’t just walk themselves?”

Peter looked you over again. “It’s the new one.”

“The other wife can watch her,” The voice said. “Now come on. You wanna question your superior? ‘Cause I’d be more than happy to tell Negan-,”

“I’ll be right there,” The guard said, jamming the walkie back on his belt. “You know where to go.”

“I think we can manage,” Sherry said, grabbing your arm firmly. The guard nodded at her and took off back down the hall. Sherry watched him until he disappeared before she pulled you along down the stairwell, her hand still gripping your arm.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“I said no questions.”

You stumbled a bit on the steps, not used to walking in the heels, but Sherry righted you. You passed all the doors you recognized on the way down, finally getting to the bottom of the steps. Sherry pushed open the door, finding just another hallway lined with windows that still didn’t lead to the outside. Music blared loudly, a song that was too peppy for the sullen atmosphere of the corridor. She hurried you down the hall, towards a row of doors. Sherry pulled a key from the bodice of her dress, unlocking one of the doors. You heard a grunt from the inside, but Sherry didn’t move to open it so neither did you.

“You don’t have much time, okay?” Sherry said. “I have to watch the door, lock him back up when I give a signal.”

“What are you-,” You said, even as she handed you the key and ran back down the hall. You were almost too afraid to see what was behind the door, but your curious nature won out.

You pushed it open, the creature behind it flinching in the sliver of light.

You felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you as you looked over the pallid skin and matted hair of your friend. You dropped to your knees next to him, wrapping your arms around his broad, naked shoulders.  

Daryl winced at your touch at first, but as he realized who you were, he reached out, wrapping his arms around your waist and muttering your name almost as if it were a prayer.

“Jesus, Daryl,” You said, pulling back to look at him. You put your hand against his cheek, trying to get him to look at you, but he kept his eyes down.

“Ain’t nothing,” He said gruffly. You spat out a tearful laugh.

“Bullshit,” You said. Daryl finally looked at you, his eyes meeting yours. He glanced over your appearance. His gaze landed on a deep purple mark on your exposed collar bone. You tried to cover it with your hand quickly, but he reached his hand up, grazing it with his fingers.

“He hurting you?”

“I can take it,” You assured.

“Ain’t what I asked,” Daryl said.

“You’re worse off than I am,” You said.

“You ain’t gotta be here at all,” Daryl said. “Stupid shit you pulled.”

“That stupid shit I pulled saved your life, you ass,” You said, your face burning red. This wasn’t the reunion you had hoped to have with him, but it was the one you had expected.

“Ain’t worth what you gotta do,” Daryl said, his mouth a tight line as he looked at you through the greasy strands of hair. “I should be dead. Rather be dead than have to think about what he did. What he’s doing.”

“Shut the hell up,” You said. “You’re going to live, asshole.”

You heard Sherry call your name from the stairwell. You figured that must be the signal you were supposed to wait for. You didn’t want to leave Daryl like that, but you knew a half cocked escape plan would just get you both killed. Or worse.

You kissed his dirty cheek. “I’ll come back, I promise.”

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Another night in the chambers. You closed your eyes against the feel of Negan’s lips on your neck, his hand groping your breast. You had been bathed and prepped for your turn in the bedroom with your husband, but every time he touched you, you felt like you needed to scrub your skin until you bled. 

“Ready to go again, beautiful?” Negan murmured into your collar bone. His large body felt as if it were crushing your much smaller one underneath him as he traced his hand down to your thigh. You fought the urge that pulsed through your veins, the one tempting you to tell him to eat shit and die. That wouldn’t end well for you. Instead you nodded. 

“Of course,” You forced yourself to say, adding a caress of his hair for good measure. Negan looked up at you from where he was trailing kisses down your chest. 

“God damn, horny little thing, aren’t you?” Negan laughed. He took your nipple into his mouth, biting it as his hands roamed further down. A knock at the door didn’t deter his attention. He called out a half hearted “come in” as he continued his work on your breasts. You tried to ignore the door opening, leaving you almost completely exposed. You were almost used to Negan treating you like another trophy to be shown off. That didn’t mean you had to like it though.

“You piece of shit,” Your eyes snapped open at Daryl’s voice, the fight in your limbs finally coming back as you tried to shove Negan away, but he wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you into his lap as he sat up. You tried to cover yourself with your hands as best as you could. 

Daryl struggled against the hold of the guards. At least he wasn’t naked anymore, now in a set of dirty sweats with a large “A” printed on the front, his scarlet letter of sorts. It was better than Sherry’s ex husband’s. His burned flesh haunted you, serving as a reminder of what would happen if you carried out your fantasy of breaking Daryl out of the cell he was kept in and booking it towards Alexandria. 

“Something wrong, Daryl?” Negan asked, his near constant sneer looking more wicked than ever. He kissed your shoulder, keeping his eyes on Daryl the whole time. Daryl glared back at him with more fire than you had ever seen before. His eyes flickered to you for only a moment, wincing as if it caused him physical pain.

“Let her go,” Daryl spat. 

“She’s here on her own free will,” Negan said. “All my wives are. I provide them a service, they pay me back. She wants to be here, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He reached his hand up, his thumb stroking your breast. You closed your eyes, trying to picture Dwight’s face as motivation not to just turn around and gouge Negan’s eyes out with your bare hands. 

“Yes,” You said, teeth clenched hard enough to break. 

“See?” Negan smirked. “Now why can’t you be as adaptable as your girlfriend? Oh, sorry, ex girlfriend.”

Neither of you corrected him on his assumption. It didn’t seem relevant. Sure, you were closer to Daryl than any other person in the world now and you had put yourself in this position with Negan to save him, but you and Daryl had never been more than friends. Maybe Negan thinking he had this sort of leverage over Daryl was part of why he was willing to keep him alive. You weren’t about to risk taking that victory away from Negan if it would end badly for both of you.

“Boys, why don’t let Daryl loose for a bit.” The guards let him go, still standing close. Daryl didn’t move. As angry as he was, he wasn’t an idiot. “Now, come on, what do you say?” Negan asked. “Say the word and we’ll get you a pretty lil thing of your own. Unfortunately, you can’t have this one back, she’s too damn good. I keep the super hot ones for myself. But there are plenty to spare.” 

“She ain’t a car, you asshole,” Daryl said. “She’s a goddamn person.”

“Didn’t take you for a feminist, Daryl,” Negan laughed. 

“Let her go, she ain’t got anything to do with this.” 

“On the fucking contrary,” Negan said. “She’s the main reason you’re alive. The only reason I’ve kept you this far is because I keep my word. That and Dwight tells me you’re a hell of a fighter. Now, you ready to come to my side?”

“Eat shit.” At least one of you could say it.

“Not the answer I was looking for, pal,” Negan said. “But because I’m a kind, giving man, I’ll let you stay for this.” 

Negan wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, flipping you back onto the bed, on your stomach this time. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to force yourself not to think about Daryl watching as Negan’s hand slipped in between your thighs. 

It all happened in a moment, Daryl lunging, the guard grabbing him, and him cracking Daryl’s head against the wall as he was thrown to the ground. 

“Daryl!” You yelled, scrambling from the bed to kneel by his side. Negan didn’t try to pull you away.

Negan laughed, deep from his stomach as he stood up, looking down at Daryl’s crumpled form. “Damn. I thought he was gonna put up way more of a fight. Kinda disappointing.”

You cradled his head in your lap, placing your fingers on his neck and finally breathing when you found his pulse.

“You have to take him to Carson,” You demanded. 

Negan looked down at you, eyebrow cocked. “I do, do I? Usually, I don’t let people live long after they try to choke me out.” 

“You promised me,” You said. “That was our deal.” 

Negan smirked at you. He had that way about him that seemed to say that no matter what happened, he had orchestrated it. A God complex if you had ever seen one. “Take the dog down to the infirmary. I have a promise to keep to the Missus.” 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

You had never been a lucky person. You had survived this long on basic fighting skills and with the help of your friends, but luck hadn’t had much to do with it. But tonight you thanked every god there might be that Negan decided to send you back to the wives’ quarters after the guards had taken Daryl down to the infirmary. 

You had been taken down to the infirmary only twice before, but you remembered where it was. You had also paid close enough attention to know where the guards would be. 

Most of the other wives were asleep, but some were still up, reading or chatting quietly. None of the ones left awake would rat you out. Either they didn’t care or they liked to give Negan a silent fuck you that wouldn’t end up in getting punished themselves. 

You pulled on the black silk robe over the ridiculous lingerie Negan had you all wear as pajamas. Fortunately for him, no one cared enough to raid the Victoria’s Secrets when the apocalypse hit. You didn’t bother with shoes, you would be quieter on bare feet. 

You reached the door, only briefly looking over your shoulder at the wives who were still awake. Sherry shot you a look over her book, but didn’t say anything. She had warned you not to go, but much unlike luck, you had an abundance of bad ideas. She wasn’t going to stop you, but you could tell by the look on her face that she wouldn’t defend you if you got caught. You were okay with that. You knew what you had to do and you couldn’t ask Sherry to continuously stick her neck out for you. She had done enough.

The halls were dark and empty at this time of night. Each step of your bare feet sounded like a crash as you tried to sneak quietly to the staircase. You already had your excuse ready if someone stopped you. You needed to talk to Doctor Carson right away about some concerning bleeding. 

Your luck seemed to hold out as you didn’t see another face the entire trip down the stairs. You reached the infirmary, cracking open the door just enough to poke your head in. 

“The hell are you doing down here?” Daryl said. He looked no worse for wear as he laid in the makeshift hospital room. 

“You’re okay,” You breathed, coming to his bedside. 

“Doc made up some bullshit to keep me outta the cell overnight, my head’s fine,” Daryl explained, swinging his legs off the bed. 

“I’m so sorry,” You said in a rush. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know. Everything?” You said with a humorless laugh. 

“You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for,” Daryl said. “Negan’s gonna be though.” 

“I don’t know why he did that,” You said. “It’s bad enough to go through it, I don’t need an audience. Especially you.”

“You know why he did it,” Daryl said, not meeting your eyes. 

“Well yeah, I guess. He thinks he stole something from you and that flaunting it...me, whatever, will get you to join him. He’s an idiot if he thinks that’ll work.”

Daryl rolled his shoulders, shaking his head. “Almost did,” He mumbled. 

“What are you talking about? You just tried to kill him.”

“You think I want him doing that to ya?” Daryl said, his gravelly voice raising as he stood up from the bed, looming over you. “Being in that cell ain’t the worst part of being here. I know he can just kill me, ain’t gonna stop it. Course I thought about joining him just to stop him from hurting ya like that. Ain’t gonna work, either way.”

“Daryl-,” 

“I don’t give a damn what he does to me, ya know that,” Daryl said, looking you straight in the eyes with the same anger he had before, but not at you. Never at you. It was the same anger that made him lunge at Negan without a second thought of how badly it would end. 

You stood on your toes, your hand reaching into his hair to pull him down low enough to kiss you. You don’t know what came over you. Of course you had thought about this many times, but you had never thought to act on it. There was so much else going on, romance didn’t take priority.

You pulled back, looking up at Daryl’s expressionless face. You were about to turn around and run all the way back upstairs. Until he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back up to kiss you again. 

For someone so tough and rugged, he was surprisingly gentle, his calloused hands caressing the smooth skin of your thighs as he lifted you up to place on on the bed. You kissed him back hungrily. It was the exact opposite of being with Negan. You were starved for a touch that didn’t make your skin crawl. Daryl’s hands on your hips felt more like home than anything you had felt in years.

You needed his skin on yours. Daryl let you pull the sweatshirt over his head. You dragged your hands from the hair on his toned chest to the trail into his pants, biting your lip. You pulled at the tie on your robe, letting it slide off your shoulders. He paused, looking at your chest. At the angry reddish marks there. He touched them gingerly with his finger tips. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, not wanting to give him long enough to decide this was a stupid thing to do. You kissed his neck, nipping at his ear and making him groan low in his throat. 

“You wanna do this?” Daryl asked in a voice barely above a whisper. You nodded furiously. “You ain’t his.” 

“I’m not his,” You affirmed. You moved back to his mouth, your lips capturing his. “I’m yours.” 

Daryl pulled your top off. His hands, followed by his lips and tongue, roamed over your breasts. Each touch from him felt like it scrubbed away the dirt of Negan’s embrace. You needed him everywhere. 

He slid your underwear off, leaving you naked on the hospital bed. He pushed a finger into you, groaning at how wet you already were. You moaned into his mouth as he kissed you, adding another finger as you rode his hand. You whimpered slightly when he removed his mouth from yours and his hand from you. Until he got to his knees, placing your thighs on his broad shoulders. 

Your hands tangled in his hair as his tongue drew a line into your wet flesh. He licked you as you tried your damnedest be quiet. You nearly lost it when his fingers found their way back inside of you, pumping into you as his tongue circled your clit. 

“Oh god, Daryl,” You cried out as you came. 

Daryl stood, wiping his mouth sloppily on the back of his hand. You pulled him back to you impatiently. 

“I need you,” You said, shoving the pants off of his hips. A hiss of breath escaped his lips as your hand brushed his hard length. Daryl shifted you closer to him, his hand back on your hip. He buried himself in you, both of you gasping at the feel.

“Shit,” Daryl muttered under his breath. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so close to coming again. 

He pulled out almost all the way, shoving back in with a snap of his hips, another moan bubbling out from your lips. 

“Faster,” You begged. 

Daryl complied, thrusting into you at a steady rhythm as you dug your nails into his back. He didn’t seem to mind, grunting with each movement. Every thrust brought you closer, your legs wrapped around him, holding onto him for dear life. He wrapped one arm around your waist while the other held him up as he groaned finally into the crook of your neck. 

The door swung open, breaking you apart. Daryl righted his pants and turned to stand protectively in front of you. 

“Thought I heard something in here,” Dr. Carson said. “Not a great position to find you in.” 

“We were-,” You started to say but Carson shook his head.

“It’s better for all of us if you just go back to your quarters.” 

You quickly pulled your clothes back on. You gave Daryl a final look before running out of the room. 

Climbing the stairs, your breathing ragged, the whole ordeal hardly felt real, even if you could still feel him inside of you. Despite everything, you smiled. 


	4. Chapter 4

The furnace room was alight with commotion. Everyone scrambled to get a closer view of the ledge where Negan was supposed to come out any minute now. You looked at Sherry, who seemed just as confused as you were by the sudden call for a rousing speech from your shared husband. 

After being at the Sanctuary for almost three months, Negan decided you could be trusted enough to be let out of your quarters without escort. You had learned from Sherry. Nod your head, smile graciously, try your best not to cringe away from his touch. He had no idea you sneaked down to his prison every night to slide Daryl scraps from dinner so he wouldn’t have to live off the dog food they had been giving him. You could never stay long. You hadn’t been able to talk to him about what had happened that night in the infirmary. 

You had spent that night in bed with your heart beating fast, afraid that any minute Negan would bust in and pull you down to the furnace room to watch Daryl get the iron. What had felt amazing in the moment came crashing back to you for what it was: a dumbass decision that could get you both killed. Luckily, Dr. Carson didn’t think it was worth the trouble.

“Here he comes,” Sherry said, nudging your arm and pulling your attention from where Daryl waited with his mop in the back of the room. Every so often, you could catch him looking at you too.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Negan’s voice rang out from his platform. God, how his baritone chilled your spine. In another life, you would have considered him handsome, with his square jaw and dazzling smile. But in this life, the one where you were his prisoner in a gilded cage, all you saw was a monster. “We have a special guest today. Normally, I don’t like to do tours myself, but he is  _ very  _ special.” 

Negan looked over his shoulder, nodding with his smirk plastered on his face. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched two of Negan’s men pulled Carl forward, up next to Negan. 

“No,” You whispered in disbelief. He put on a brave face, something he had gotten good at over the last few years, but you could see the fear in the eye that was left uncovered. You turned back to Daryl. Like Carl, he was good at hiding his emotion behind a mask of stoicism, but even his was cracking. It was bad enough that you had to be trapped here, that Daryl had to live in a cell. You didn’t want to think of what Negan had in store for Carl.

“Our friend here thought it’d be fun to hide away on a truck and shoot a few of our men. How about that? Kid has some balls of fucking steal, don’t he?” Negan said. 

“What’s he going to do to him?” You asked to no one in particular.

“He one of yours?” Sherry asked you. You nodded. You had somewhat hoped that Sherry would give you a comforting answer, but instead, she just turned back up to Negan. 

“But out of the goodness of my heart, I decided not to kill the lil one eyed bastard and instead show him how we live around here.” 

That eased your mind slightly. Negan was a twisted son of a bitch but he did keep to his word. Carl would be fine as long as he didn’t try anything stupid. But you remembered that Carl was known for not doing what was best for him and you were worried all over again. 

You had known Carl for a long time now. He was like a little brother to you, despite the crush Maggie was sure he had on you. The thought of losing him after you had already lost so many others was too much. He found your face in the crowd and you wanted to cry at the clear relief that crossed over him as he saw that you were safe. He was his father’s son, taking it upon himself to care for others even when he was in danger. You tried to convey a message to him with only a facial expression.  _ “Don’t worry about us. Get out of here in one piece.”  _

 

You tapped your foot impatiently on the carpeted floor of the harem. After Negan had dismissed the crowd, the guards had shepherded you all back up to your room. Sherry watched you, finally laying her hand on your knee to stop your fidgeting. 

“You’re making me itch, girl,” She said. 

“I gotta find Carl,” You said quietly enough that only Sherry could hear. Most of the wives hated Negan as much as you did, but you weren’t about to take chances. 

“Bad idea,” Sherry said. “Negan’s not going to hurt him.” 

“On the fucking contrary,” You said. “Negan nearly made Carl’s dad take his arm off just to prove a point.” 

“Nearly’s the key word,” Sherry said. “It was a power move. I never seen him hurt a kid.” 

“Carl’s not like other kids.”

“What exactly could you do, even if Negan did want to hurt him?” Sherry said. “You’ll only get yourself killed.” 

You wanted to argue, but she was right. You didn’t really have a plan, you just knew you couldn’t sit on your ass and do nothing when the same person who had killed Glenn and Abraham in cold blood had Carl in bat swinging distance. 

The door opened and you no longer worried about how to find Carl; he walked in, led by Negan. Your luck seemed to be improving, though you weren’t exactly sure this is what you wanted to happen. At least now you had Carl in your sight, you told yourself. 

“Now, this is the best part of this place,” Negan said. He turned back to Carl. “I know what you’re thinking. You can look at their titties, I don’t mind, they don’t mind, it’s only natural when you’re in a room full of gorgeous women.” 

You stood up from the couch but held yourself back from going to Carl. He met your eye, clearly having the same thought. Negan looked at you with a smirk. “Oh now, that’s right,” He said, looking back at Carl. “You know my lovely wife here.” 

Carl met his gaze, looking like he wanted to say something but knew it wouldn’t be a great idea. Carl looked to you again. 

“Go ahead,” Negan said, shoving Carl towards you. “You can say hi.” 

You moved before Carl, pulling him into a fierce hug. After a shocked moment, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you just as tightly. He rested his head on your shoulder as if trying to hide his face. Carl was taller than you now. You weren’t sure when that had happened, but you suddenly felt the sharp ache of how much you missed the family you had built since all this had started. You placed a hand on the back of his head, trying to hold back tears. You didn’t like to cry in front of Negan. It always felt like letting him win and you were nothing if not petty. 

“Now, now,” Negan said. “Don’t get too handsy, she is a married woman after all.” 

You stepped back reluctantly. You could see a tear on Carl’s cheek as he stepped away. He quickly wiped it away before Negan could notice.

“It’s a perk of being the boss, all these beautiful wives,” Negan said. “Get to fuck any of them any time I want.” Carl’s face pinched in disgust but he remained quiet. “Your friend there, she’s a sweet one, but she likes it rough-,”

“Stop,” Carl said firmly. Your heart stopped for a moment, but Negan didn’t look angry. He actually looked impressed. 

“Alright kid, no dirty talk,” He laughed a bit, slapping Carl on the shoulder. “Sweetheart, you gotta go down to the infirmary. The Doc should be waiting for you.”

“Why?” You asked, taken aback. 

“I can’t be the only one who’s noticed the distinct lack of blood from you,” Negan said with a smug smirk. “We ain’t getting our hopes up yet, but you gotta take the test. Fingers crossed you passed.” 

Carl’s eye widened, looking at you as you counted back in your head. You looked to Sherry as if the older woman would be better equipped to handle this, but she mirrored your slack jawed face. 

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Though Negan hadn’t asked her to, Sherry went with you down to the infirmary. When you thought you were a safe enough distance, you let the tears fall down your face as Sherry pulled you along with enough force to tear your arm out of its socket. Being away from your family and in this factory shaped prison was bad enough, you didn’t want to bring a child into it, especially not Negan’s. Before all this, you had always thought one day, maybe after college, you would have kids. This wasn’t what you had in mind at all. 

Sherry pulled you into the infirmary where Dr. Carson was indeed waiting for you. She steered you to sit on the exam table. Sherry shot him a look before grabbing a cloth to wipe your face with. 

“You’re a goddamn fool,” Sherry said as she handed it to you. You looked up at her, confusion drawing your face. “You risk getting caught like that just to hook up with your boyfriend? You saw what happened with Amber. I showed you where he was so you would know he was safe, not so you could screw him.” 

“How did you-,” You looked over to Dr. Carson. You didn’t think he and Sherry were that close, you don’t know why he would tell her about you and Daryl. 

“Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know if you ain’t get your period for three months that you’re either pregnant or going through menopause and you’re about thirty years shy of that.” 

“I had sex with Daryl once,” You said in a hushed voice as if Negan would be waiting around the corner. “Negan has me in his room every other night. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the odds on that either.” 

“Honey, why do you think I’ve been here so long and I ain’t knocked up? Or how about Francine? She’s been here even longer, still no baby from her,” Sherry said. “You see any lil Negans running around here? Why do you think that is?” 

You realized what Sherry was trying to tell you. Negan had said something about always wanting a child once while you laid in bed with him, his breath on the back of your neck. It had surprised you that someone so cruel would want to be a father but then you remembered that he was a narcissist and nothing would please him more than to have more of himself. It hadn’t dawned on you, that with multiple wives, he should have had a heir by now. 

“Negan can’t have kids,” You said finally. 

“Not like he would ever admit that it was him with the problem, lest he seem unmanly,” Sherry said. 

“I’ve managed to convince him that it’s probably an issue with his wives. It’s not that far off to think that whatever disease caused the walkers would cause a decline in fertility rate,” Carson explained as he pulled a thin plastic wand from a box in the cabinet. 

“But whatever hope you had of escaping, good fucking luck,” Sherry said. “Negan’s not going to let you or your little bastard out of his sight.”

You took the stick from Carson, holding it so tightly in your hand you felt like you might snap it in half. “We don’t even know for sure-,” 

Sherry interrupted you with a sarcastic laugh. “That you’re pregnant? Sure, girl, sure. Go take that.” 

You hopped off the exam table, opening the door to the bathroom. You had to do this only once before. The small, cold infirmary bathroom wasn’t much different than the one in the high school handicap stall. At least then, you had your best friend there to tell you all the latest gossip while you held yourself at an uncomfortable angle to try and aim as best as you could. Now, you were painfully alone. Back then, that was the most scared you had ever been and you had never felt anything like the relief you felt when it came out negative. 

When you were done, you set the stick face side down on the counter as you washed your hands. You thought time was supposed to go slower when you were scared, but it seemed like only seconds later when Dr. Carson knocked on the door. 

“Should be time,” He said through the door. 

You felt the pit in your stomach manifest into a black hole as you flipped the test over. The pink plus sign should have just been a giant middle finger.

* * *

Negan held the little plastic stick in his hands, a grin stapled to his stubbled face. His newest wife handing him that test upon his arrival back at the sanctuary after dropping the kid off at Alexandria was probably the best he had felt in years. 

He had spent his whole adult life up until the outbreak hanging out with other people’s children. He never regretted becoming a teacher, especially after Lucille got sick and their promises of having kids “someday” got put on a permanent back burner. He at least got to have some sort of impact on a child’s life even if they weren’t his own, but now, he would have one of his own. Someone to pass on all he had worked for. 

Negan hadn’t been able to read the expression on the mother to be’s face when she had told him the good news. He wasn’t an idiot. Even if she was his wife, she was still young. He never bothered to ask her, but she couldn’t be more than twenty three. Being a mom probably wasn’t on her list of priorities at the moment, especially not with the dead chasing any slight noise they heard. 

He reassured her that he would make sure her and their baby were safe. Nothing would get to them as long as he was around and he planned on being around for a long, long while. She had given him a shy smile. He sent her off to get some rest, checking out her ass as she left. It was quite the shame that it wasn’t one of the less attractive wives that was going to get all stretched out. But again, she was pretty young; she’d bounce back. 

Negan hopped down the last set of stairs, holding his prize proudly. He winced as the annoyingly peppy song they played for their prisoner hit him. It was a punishment for Daryl’s little outburst earlier, threatening him if he hurt Carl. As if Negan would ever hurt a kid.

“Turn that shit off,” He ordered. The music snapped off immediately. 

Negan grabbed the key from the guard on duty, pulling open the door. He crouched down to where Daryl sat on the cold, dirty floor. The archer didn’t even glance up at Negan, which only etched Negan’s grin deeper. 

“Hey there, pal,” Negan said, pulling Daryl’s head up by the hair. “Enjoying yourself?” 

Like always, Daryl stayed silent. But if looks could kill, Negan would be six feet under. 

“So listen, I just wanted you to be the first to know, officially,” Negan said. “Really, since it was your dumbass that brought me and my new wife together.” Negan held up the pregnancy test, his smile now splitting his face. “We got a little one on the way.” 

Daryl’s face fell as he stared at the test, trying to process the information that Negan was telling him. 

“What?” He asked finally. 

“Knocked her up,” Negan said with a cold, booming laugh. “All those nights of plowing, you didn’t think there’d be a harvest?” Daryl clenched his jaw tighter, almost hard enough to break his teeth. “Now, I’m gonna be a bit busy with the baby and all. Gotta have more fighters, protecting the family. What do you say?” 

“Fuck you,” Daryl said finally. 

Negan didn’t falter. “Figured you’d say that. Too bad,” He stood back up, slipping the test into his pocket. “Turn it back on.”

Negan slammed the door on Daryl as the notes of the too cheery song began again. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

_ Everything about Alexandria seemed wrong now, off balance. Even Judith seemed to notice the shift after what had happened in the clearing. Maybe she just missed her guardian archer sleeping on the floor of her room every night. You had barely slept since that night and you were sure no one else had either by the looks on their faces. _

_ “What’s the plan?” Carl asked, his fists clenched tight against his biceps as he looked at his father. Rick didn’t protest when Carl had let himself into the informal council meeting. Maybe after everything he had been through, Rick decided Carl was mature enough to handle the realities of the world he had already been living in.  _

_ “He said he’d come for his stuff and we’ll have it ready for him by-,” _

_ “We’re just going to hand it over?” Carl asked, outraged.  _

_ “You saw what he did,” Rick said firmly.  _

_ “We’ve dealt with assholes like him before.” _

_ “Not like this we haven’t,” Michonne said, her face drawn. “Your dad is right, Carl.”  _

_ “We’re not even going to-,”  _

_ “We already lost Glenn and Abraham. He has Daryl,” Rick said. “We aren’t taking any chances. We aren’t attacking, we aren’t doing anything but handing over what he wants. He said he won’t hurt any more of our people if we do as he says.”  _

_ “Can we trust he’ll do what he says?” You asked. You hadn’t had the misfortune of meeting Negan. You had wanted to go with Maggie and the rest to the Hilltop, but with everyone else gone, Rick convinced you to stay behind with Judith. At the time you resented being put on babysitting duty but after your friends returned with the news, you were grateful you hadn’t been there to witness it first hand.  _

_ “No,” Rick said. “But we don’t have any other options.”  _

_ Carl looked like he wanted to protest more, but the commotion from outside drew the group’s attention elsewhere. Rick cursed under his breath, running out the door with Michonne quickly behind him. The rest of you filed out, with you and Carl bringing up the rear.  _

_ Rick held his arm out, standing a few yards from the entrance of the safe zone signaling everyone to hold back behind him as the guards opened the gate. Your stomach turned as you watched the unfamiliar truck pulled in through the gates.  _

_ They came to a stop, every eye in the safe zone on the door. By now, everyone had heard what happened and no one wanted a repeat. You hoped that Rick was right and that if you did what this Negan had requested that he would leave you alone. But as he was two days earlier than he said he would be, you weren’t too hopeful.  _

_ The driver’s side door swung open and two heavy boots clapped onto the pavement as the man hopped out of the truck. He was older, but handsome. His dark, slicked back hair and his leather jacket gave him the look of a biker without the bike. A chill ran down your spine as you spotted the bat resting on his shoulder. You didn’t need to be told who this was.  _

_ “Well, isn’t this place nice?” Negan asked with a smirk that made you think he had probably caused a lot of trouble for a number of teachers in his day. “Lil slice of American pie. Y’all have houses. Houses!”  _

_ “You’re early,” Rick said firmly. He didn’t sound angry or scared. His tone was even, calculated.  _

_ “Now what’s this?” Negan asked, ignoring Rick completely. He aimed his bat at the entrance, like a batter readying up for the pitch. A lone walker had wandered in through the gates. _

_ He looked back at your group. Spotting you, his grin widened. He stepped towards you. Rick’s jaw tightened like he wanted to say something but stayed silent. Negan thrusted his bat into your hands as he looked down at you, towering over you. You were frozen, too scared to move a muscle.  _

_ “Hold her for me, would you, gorgeous,” Negan said as he turned back towards the entrance. He pulled his gun from the back of his pants, aiming it and shooting the walker easily. It crumpled at the edge of Alexandria. He blew the barrel of the gun like an old western hero. “Look at that! I just saved y’all. What do you say?” _

_ You looked to the rest of your group. All of them held their bodies as if ready to attack but stayed still. They all muttered a thank you. You couldn’t seem to form the words.  _

_ Negan locked his eyes with yours, coming back to stand over you once again. He held your gaze for a moment before letting his eyes rake over your body. You had on your normal clothes: a tank top and denim jacket and jeans. But the way his eyes trailed over you, you felt as naked as you had come into this world.  _

_ “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Negan asked, softly. You didn’t answer him. You were afraid of what might come out of your mouth if you opened it. He took your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look at him. Carl moved like he wanted to lunge at Negan, but Michonne held his arm in an ironclad grip. You silently thanked her. You had heard what had happened when Daryl had lashed out.  _

_ “I asked you a question,” Negan said.  _

_ You answered, but the words felt like venom as you spit them out.  _

_ “Pretty name for a pretty girl,” Negan chuckled. “You like it here at Alexandria?”  _

_ “When my friends aren’t being killed, sure,” You said. Negan almost looked impressed.  _

_ “You know, pretty young thing like you, I could take you in,” Negan said. “Always got room for a rack like that.” _

_ “Excuse me?” You asked, feeling your blood boil.  _

_ “I provide for my women,” Negan said. “Come back with me, you won’t need to worry about anything. Not food, not safety, nothing but satisfying me.”  _

_ Now it wasn’t just you looking at him in disgust, but everyone else too. Michonne looked ready to not only let Carl go on him, but to take her own weapon out as well.  _

_ “Eat shit and die,” You said through teeth clenched so hard they threatened to crack.  _

_ Negan chuckled, shaking his head. “I like them feisty.”  _

_ The crash from the truck snapped the tension like a broken bone. A pair tumbled out from the back of the truck. You recognized Daryl’s wild form immediately. One of Negan’s men pulled him off of what you assumed had been Daryl’s guard, holding Daryl’s thrashing form. Negan rolled his shoulders, sighing loudly. _

_ “How many times do I gotta tell you, Jethro, keep your damn hands to yourself if you wanna keep them,” Negan said, his voice a roar over the silence of the safe zone.  _

_ Daryl struggled against his captor. Normally, Daryl could have taken him easily, but it looked like he had barely eaten or slept since you had last seen him. He was weak.  _

_ “That’s it,” Negan grumbled. He turned back to you, reaching for his bat, but you pulled away. He stared you down once again. “Oh, sweetheart, not a smart move.”  _

_ “Don’t hurt him,” You said. Negan chuckled.  _

_ “You aren’t in a position to give orders, missy.”  _

_ “I’ll go with you,” You said without thinking. Negan raised his eyebrows in amused curiosity. “If you don’t hurt Daryl, I’ll go with you.” _

_ “No,” Rick said helplessly, looking from you to Negan and back again. Your heart ached looking at Rick’s face. He had been like a father to you since you had met him and the pain in his eyes as he thought about losing yet another member of his family was almost too much to take. But that’s exactly why you had to do it. You weren’t much of a fighter. You could handle yourself alright and you could kill walkers easy, but if Rick couldn’t take down Negan, you knew you couldn’t. But you could do this.  _

_ “Is that so?” Negan said.  _

_You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Rick as you nodded._


	7. Chapter 7

You thought that nothing could be worse than having to let Negan inside you, but it turned out that you felt more disgusting having to sleep next to him as if you were a real husband and wife. When he came to get you from your quarters earlier, your brand new room all to yourself you had gotten as a reward for being fertile, you braced yourself for the normal routine, but instead he had you get undressed just to lay next to him, his heavy arm around your waist, his hand splayed wide across the slight bump of your stomach and his body fully enveloping yours from behind in a way that would feel protective if he wasn’t what you need protecting from. Negan didn’t explain this sudden act of tenderness but you were positive it had something to do with the baby growing inside you. He wanted to play house. 

Negan had been snoring into your hair for hours, but you couldn’t fall asleep. Not when you were on red alert. Not to mention you had barely been out of Negan’s sight for two weeks now. You hadn’t even seen a glimpse of Daryl in all that time. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, you wriggled out of his grasp, getting to your feet. Negan blinked awake blearily, making your heart stop in its tracks as you froze, watching him rub his eyes in an almost childlike manner. You don’t know why you thought you would be able to get out without waking him up; this man had spent this long watching his back for threats. Of course he was a light sleeper. 

“Where ya going?” Negan asked, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Bathroom,” You lied quickly. 

“Alright,” Negan grumbled, shoving his face back into his pillow, his arm still in place on the bed where you had been. “Come right back.” 

“Of course,” You said.

You pulled on your robe, holding it close to you as you left Negan’s room. You didn’t have a plan, you rarely did, but you found yourself slipping into the wives’ quarters. Most of them were asleep already. Like always, you found Sherry wide awake, reading her book. You wondered if she ever slept. 

“What are you doing in here?” She asked, looking up at you as you approached. 

“I have to talk to Daryl,” You whispered back. 

“Are you crazy, girl?” Sherry asked, shutting her book and getting to her feet to meet your eyes. “I ain’t gonna help you sneak in there just so you can get yourself in trouble.” 

“I’m already pregnant, I can’t get in any more trouble than I am now,” You said. “Please, I know I’ve asked a lot of you-,”

“You sure as hell have,” She said. 

“Please, Sherry,” You said. “Negan’s spooning me like we’re Mommy and Daddy or something and I’m about to hurl.” 

“That’s probably the morning sickness.” 

“You know what I meant,” You said. “I haven’t seen Daryl since I found out. Negan’s watching me like a damn hawk.” 

“Which is exactly why this is a dumbass idea,” Sherry argued. 

“I know exactly how dumb it is, believe me,” You assured. “But I really don’t care. I need to talk to him. He doesn’t even know what’s going on.”

“He does.” 

“He does what?” 

“He knows what’s going on,” Sherry explained. “Well, sort of. Negan told him you’re pregnant. Probably to really pour salt in his wounds.” 

“Sherry, please,” You begged. You could hear the desperation in your own voice. 

“Wait here, alright?” Sherry sighed heavily, rubbing her hand across her face as if this was giving her a powerful headache. You did as you were told as she slipped on her own robe and quietly sneaked out of the room. 

You could feel your heart pound against your rib cage as you waited for Sherry to come back. You tried to count the ticks of the old wristwatch you wore, just for something to focus on. Nowadays it was a bit of obsolete technology, more something you wore to remind yourself of how things used to be. After the three hundredth tick you started to feel sick.

Finally, Sherry came back in. You met her at the door and her hands shook as she pressed a key into your hand. “There’s not going to be a guard, you have ten minutes.” 

“Thank you so-,” 

“Don’t thank me for being a dumbass,” Sherry said. “Ten minutes and then straight back to Negan’s room. Go the same way I took you that first time, you remember it?”

“I remember, I got it,” You nodded profusely. You checked your watch. 2:13. 

“Get a good conversation in because this isn’t gonna happen again,” Sherry warned but you were already half out the door. 

You thought that maybe you should be more curious about what strings Sherry was pulling in order to get this all worked out for you, but you didn’t have time to worry about that as you rushed down the stairs as quietly as you could, peeking around each corner. 

The hall was empty as Sherry had promised. You unlocked the door and exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding as you saw Daryl sitting on the floor, his hands on his raised knees, his head hanging down as you closed the door behind you.

Everything you wanted to tell him left your mind the instant his relieved eyes met yours. You dropped to your knees in front of him, letting him pull you into his lap and wrap his arms around your waist. You held his head to your chest, feeling his scruffy face against your breasts as you kissed the top of his head. Negan had kept his promises this far but you couldn’t help but worry that any time Daryl was out of your sight, he was in danger. Two weeks of that had been torture. 

You felt his mouth move against your collar bone, sending a chill up your spine. “You’re okay,” He muttered as he kissed your neck. You never would have described Daryl Dixon as needy, but that’s how it felt as he placed his lips over yours. He needed you as much as you needed him. 

You felt like a caged animal that had finally been released; you weren’t thinking, just running on instinct. You didn’t think about the danger of getting caught again, by someone less friendly than Dr. Carson. You didn’t think about Negan realizing you had been gone for so long. You didn’t think about any consequences. You could only think about Daryl’s hands reaching under your robe and grabbing your ass, pushing you closer to him if that were possible. 

He moved one hand into your hair, kissing you in that gentle way of his that was still so intense you felt it in every cell of your body. You tugged your robe open, exposing your bare skin to the cold air of the cell to let his hands roam over you. The callouses from years of hard living felt coarse but comforting on your skin. You felt the tight muscles of his stomach and chest as you pulled his shirt off over his head. 

You wanted to tell him how worried you were, how much you missed him, but you couldn’t form the words, not with his mouth on your neck, your collar bone, your breast. Daryl wasn’t much for words anyways. 

Daryl pulled you down to straddle him as he laid on the cold floor. His hands traced up your thighs, going to your back to hold you in place as he shifted his hips up, making you bite back a gasp. 

You fumbled with the waistband of his pants, shoving them down and helping him guide himself into you. You clawed his shoulder, hearing him say your name as he filled you. His hands moved to your hips, moving in time with you as you rocked against him. 

“Daryl,” You moaned as he hit exactly the right spot. You fit against him perfectly. It didn’t seem to bother you that this was a prison floor you were scraping your knees against. You had Daryl, at least for this moment. 

With every movement you got closer to your end. By the low grunts coming from Daryl, you could tell he was close as well. He thrust up into you, harder and faster. He had to know this couldn’t last long, that you didn’t have much time. 

_ Time. _

You pulled back from him, checking your watch in the dim light coming in from under the door. 2:24.

“Shit,” You said, standing up shakily on weak knees. You pulled your robe closed haphazardly. “I have to go.” 

“Wait,” Daryl said, grabbing your hand in his from his spot on the floor. He was still breathing hard. “He told me you’re-,” 

“I am,” You said softly. You knew you had to hurry, you were already passed your time, but this didn’t seem like something to be rushed. If you could, you would lay down next to Daryl on that dirty floor and go right to sleep. It would be better than any bed you had to share with Negan. “It’s not his.” 

“What?” Daryl asked, his face drawn in confusion.

“Yours,” You said. “I have to go.” 

You bent down, kissing his forehead quickly before dashing back out the door, locking it behind you. You didn’t stop to check his reaction. Partly because you didn’t have time for it, but mostly because you didn’t know what it would be. 

You thought you were free and clear until you reached the stairs. You froze as you nearly smacked straight into Dwight. If he was surprised to see you, you couldn’t see it on his half burnt face. It was almost like a glaring billboard of your mistakes. This is what would happen when Dwight undoubtedly told Negan. 

“You’re not supposed to be down here,” He said evenly. 

“I know,” You said, trying to not let the tremble reach your voice. He looked at you with something you couldn’t quite place. Annoyance? Pity? 

“Then go,” He said, nodding his head back to the staircase behind him. “Ain’t got time to escort you up. Don’t let me find you in here again.” 

You felt air in your lungs again. He wasn’t going to turn you in. Maybe your luck wasn’t so bad. As you hurried back up the stairs, though, you thought that maybe you could guess how Sherry got the keys in the first place. 


	8. Chapter 8

Daryl thought that seeing her would give him clarity, but it only made his days in the cell seem longer. He barely minded that he had to mop up after the body of Negan’s latest would be iron victim as Dwight smoked a cigarette lazily watching him. At least he wasn’t watching those cold metal walls. It had been two weeks since she had sneaked into his cell, for what he thought was to probably tell him about her current state but he had derailed the conversation by kissing her. He had just missed her so much, more than he ever thought he could miss a person. He had never been big on romance and dating. That was hard with his drifter tendencies. He mostly just stuck with his hand and a playboy. The girls that hung around men like him and his brother weren’t the type that came without a trip to the clinic anyways.

She was the first person who made him feel anything but fear or sadness in a long time. After they were seperated when the Governor attacked, when he saw her kneeling next to Michonne, saw the relief on her face when Daryl stopped the Claimers, that’s when he knew he couldn’t lose her. That’s when he knew he loved her. Of course, Daryl never said anything to her. She was younger, beautiful, smart as hell when she wasn’t doing stupid shit like sacrificing her freedom for him. There wouldn’t be any way she could want him. He could barely believe when she had kissed him that night in the infirmary. Maybe that’s why he had wasted no time when she came into his cell. Everything about her seemed like a dream to him.

 _“It’s not his.”_ She had said. _“Yours.”_

Daryl dragged the bloody mop across the floor, not quite focused on his job. He didn’t know how he would ever get her out of this mess. She put herself in this situation for him and he was the one that needed to get her out.

“Hurry it up,” Dwight said, tossing his cigarette into the dying furnace. “I ain’t got all night.”

Daryl wanted to ask what it was exactly that Dwight had to get back to, but he held his tongue. He was smarter than to mouth off in front of an open oven. She may have had some faith that Negan wouldn’t kill him, but Daryl wasn’t so convinced. And he wasn’t exactly trusting of Dwight, even if his wife had been the one helping Daryl see her.

Daryl dunked the mop into the bucket, turning the water a unsettling pink, before slapping it back onto the cold cement floor. He didn’t want to think about how he was mopping up the blood of someone who was just outside, moaning and groaning and snapping its jaws at whatever poor assholes got walker duty.

That’s what kept Daryl in line. Fighting back would just lead to him being strung up on the fence outside, dead and undead. He wouldn’t be able to save her, to get back to his family.

Dwight lit up another cigarette and Daryl wished he had a pack right about now. He hadn’t really smoked since Carol had joked that they would kill him. Sometimes he just craved the comfort of the nicotine and something to do with his hands besides pick the dry skin around his nails until they bled.

The steps creaked above Daryl, turning his gaze upwards.Dwight scrambled up from where he had been sitting. Daryl’s breath caught in his throat as he watched Negan lead her down the stairs, his hand on her lower back as if guiding her. Her eyes widened as she saw him and Daryl couldn’t tear his eyes away from her stomach. It hadn’t been that long since Daryl had seen her, but the bump under her dress was noticeable now.

A frown furrowed into Negan’s face. He moved his hand over his wife’s stomach, almost protectively. “He’s still down here?” Negan asked, not taking his eyes off of Daryl’s.

“I told him to hurry up-,”

“Sorry, sweetheart, walk’s cut short,” Negan said to her. “Dwight, take her back to her room.”

She looked like she wanted to protest, but they all knew that would be a bad idea. Daryl watched as Dwight lead her away again. He hated not knowing when he would get to see her next.

Negan was still looking at him like he had broken a rule. Daryl wondered why Negan had gone from flaunting her naked in front of him to infuriate him to being angry that Daryl had even laid eyes on her. Daryl wondered if her being kept out of his sight since Negan had come to taunt him with the news was completely intentional. Was Negan threatened by him?

Daryl wasn’t sure how she could know that the baby she was carrying was his. He never pictured himself as a father, not with the bastard he had been stuck with as a dad, but he knew he didn’t want it to be Negan’s child. He wanted to believe her. He wanted the child to be his.

The whisper of a plan crossed his mind and Daryl decided in the splitest of seconds that he was going to do it. Was it hope that was given by seeing her swollen stomach or fear as he saw the protective look in Negan’s eye? He wasn’t sure.

Daryl kneeled before Negan.

Despite his proclaim that first day in the cell, Daryl kneeled. He had self respect, but he also had a plan, no matter how illformed or underdeveloped it was, it was more than he had had since he had gotten here.

Negan gave a dry chuckle. “What in the hell are you doing, Dixon?” Daryl didn’t answer, he just kept his eyes on Negan’s boots. “Is this what I think it is?”

Daryl nodded. He pointed to the blood stain on the cement that he hadn’t quite been able to get out. “Ain’t gonna end up like him.”

Daryl didn’t even know what the man had done. He just knew from what the guards had said that he had tried to fight his way out and gotten beaten to death instead. Daryl wouldn’t end up like him. He would be smarter than that.

“It’s got nothing to do with our girl, then?”

“Ain’t my girl,” Daryl said, trying not to spit the words out.

“Sure ain’t.” Negan laughed again. “Come on, get up.”

Daryl did as he was told. He knew what was coming. It didn’t make it any easier.

“Who are you?”

The words tasted like acid coming off his tongue, but Daryl just reminded himself of why he did it. To see her again. To touch her. To get her out of this prison.

“Negan.”


End file.
